


cold little heart

by mirkwood131



Series: EXO Central [55]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Family Drama, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-30 02:29:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19843696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirkwood131/pseuds/mirkwood131
Summary: When Baekhyun realizes that he has feelings for Kyungsoo, it might be just too late. Kyungsoo is drifting away from him, faster and faster, and it's harder to reach him with everything bad that had happened between them.Maybe it had been his fault all along.Will he pull him back, to where they had been in the beginning?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **first of all, if you are sensitive to topics such as violence, character deaths, possible depression and PTSD, read with caution; this fic deals with these topics, so you have been warned.**
> 
> anyway...i haven't been inspired lately, lately as of a couple of months now, but listening to this song _[cold little heart-Michael Kiwanuka](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nOubjLM9Cbc) _and it kind of gave me the idea to write this.  
> it is rather dark and grim, but to be honest, this is how i have been feeling recently, so this fic just reflects that state of mind i suppose. you know when you think you are alright and you have everything going well for you for a while but then, at some point, you just snap again and go back to the old way of feeling...and you are just scared and lost because you don't know what to do? idk...that's how i've been feeling for some time now, which is so frustating as i was quite hopeful that i would get better. 
> 
> hope you will enjoy this i suppose...

Baekhyun felt his chest rise and fall, harder and harder with each breath like at some point, the air would remain caught in his throat and he wouldn’t be able to let it all out. Be stuck there for an eternity. No, until the flesh would melt off the bones and turn into the dust. Get stuck into the water. Drip. Drip. Drip.

In fact, something was dripping, in the bathroom, he thought. Right next to the room he was standing in. It smelled like damp walls; mold and fine dust falling over the brown furniture. The window was wide open, letting the cool, rainy air get inside. But it couldn’t remain the smell that was lingering there.

“Did you hear that?” he whispered, looking at the other.

But he was asleep; his eyes closed, lips slightly parted, the plumpness of the bottom one touching the olive skin of his chin. His hair was in all directions on his forehead. But the chest was rising and falling, rising and falling. It was enchanting, like a strange sort of mediation, just watching him. How heavy was that sleep? Would he stir awake if he touched him; just on the side of his face, to trace the contours; the bones, the bridge of the nose and the arch of his lips.

He breathed out, moving closer with his face until it was right above his. There was the possibility of kissing him; right then and there. He wouldn’t even know, or feel, doing it lightly enough. But he didn’t want it that way, sneaking a kiss and then pretending that nothing had happened.

He opened his eyes.

“What are you doing…?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Baekhyun smiled, lying down next to him. “You look cute when you are asleep.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” he hummed, turning on his side. “Kyungsoo…”

“Yeah?”

But he heard that same noise, again, like someone hit a wall or fell down, right in front of the room, on the floor. He stood up, holding his breath, as he stepped towards the door. They should have locked it.

“KYUNGSOO! WHERE T’FUCK ARE YA, BASTARD?”

“You said he is out,” Baekhyun hissed, looking back at Kyungsoo.

“He was.”

“Fuck, the door,” he whispered, sprinting towards it but when he grabbed the knob, he was pushed back, falling down as the door opened with a force that made it bang against the wall and crack it wide across.

“Where t’fuck are ya?!”

Baekhyun glanced at Kyungsoo, looking smaller than ever on the bed, clutching a pillow at his chest; he knew he couldn’t stand a chance, not like that. None of them could, as he looked at the man in the doorframe, filling it with his form.

He wasn’t sure why the only thought that came to his mind was why was Kyungsoo so tiny when his father was twice his size? Maybe he wasn’t his son after all. But his back was aching, still standing right where he landed. There was something making him unable to move; maybe cowardice, he was safer that way.

“Come right here…” the man said, pointing somewhere in the air.

Kyungsoo gulped down, placing the pillow on the bed and stood up; his legs were shaking as he tripped on the rug gathered at the side of the bed. He grabbed the edge of the closet with his fingers, digging them into the wood as they were gliding across, leaving thin marks all over it.

“Don’t make me wait.”

Baekhyun was glad the man didn’t see him or wasn’t paying attention to him. His eyes were round, coming out of the sockets in his skull as two big eggs covered in red vines. The rest was covered in what he thought was a cataract, white and milky. Could he even see anything?

“Yes, father,” Kyungsoo whispered, stopping in front of him.

He looked like a child, a miniature almost adult, right next to him, with his gaze pinned to the floor. Baekhyun closed his eyes, hearing the floor creak next to him. The first punch, the sound of a bone-cracking, flesh smashing into flesh and hard tissue; a groan and huffing and panting. When he opened his eyes, Kyungsoo was held by the collar of his t-shirt, dragged towards the hallway by the other.

His feet were barely touching the floor and blood was trickling down from the side of his face. Baekhyun stood up.

He breathed in, feeling everything spin around with him, his vision turning black and scattered with colored spots until it all turned back to normal. They were no longer in the room, but in the hallway, near the staircase going towards the entrance hallway. Kyungsoo wasn’t making any noise, his head held in a strange position, over his shoulder as the man was shaking his body and hitting him with one leg or another wherever he could.

Baekhyun breathed out and made the first step. Maybe the cataract was making him blind. Yes, he couldn’t see him. He could just sneak behind and grab Kyungsoo from his hands. And then what? He wasn’t sure. But he kept on walking, one step at a time, as the sounds were muffled down by the rug underneath his feet. Kyungsoo groaned at some point, and his head turned a little, his eyes opened, looking at him; through him. The man hadn’t noticed him yet.

He cleaned his palms on his jeans, leaving a trail of sweat all over them. He was just a meter away, then. What was he supposed to do?!

Baekhyun stopped and looked around. The hallway was empty of anything he could use as a weapon. A painting. He could take that. Smash it against his skull. He shook his head, chewing his bottom lip until the blood gushed out.

Kyungsoo groaned again, harder, as the sound of metal reverberated through space. He was holding the black railing with both hands, clutching it as the man was holding his head in a grip, pushing it again and again and again against it.

He could run. Go past him, into the street, yell for the neighbors. Baekhyun licked the blood from his lip, looking again at the painting, then at the man, standing right at the edge of the stairs.

He started running, pushing his arms forward, closing his eyes and then he felt them making contact with something hard; he pushed and then that thing was gone.

There wasn’t a scream, but the sound was something heavy rolling down on the stairs, the sounds of metal smashing against bones. He hadn’t known the sound before. But when he opened his eyes, at the bottom of the steps there was a bundle of clothes, a mass of skin and clothes and hair with blood caught between the strands. It wasn’t moving.

“Fuck…” he whispered, falling on the floor, holding his knees.

-

The day was musty, filled with the water that was dripping; not from a cracked pipe in a moldy bathroom, gathering in a puddle on green tiles. It was gathering in puddles on the ground, right at his feet. He squeezed the umbrella's handle harder.

He was supposed to feel something, anything. That was supposed to happen. Remorse, shame, pain. Anything. But he could just feel the dampness seeping through his clothes, the cold brushing against his cheeks. He found the word. Numb. He felt numb.

“Baekhyun…why don’t you stand next to him?”

A hand landed on his shoulder, warm somehow, squeezing it.

“He doesn’t want me to.”

“You should try…”

“Try what?” he spat back, turning to look at her.

“He looks so lonely…standing there by the casket. Losing a parent is very hard, especially when you don’t have anyone there to support you.”

“He doesn’t want me to support him, mom. So I won’t go there.”

“What happened between you two? Since his father’s accident…you have been distant,” the woman said, letting her hand fall down from his shoulder. “Honey…I want to help you. Both of you.”

“I’m fine,” Baekhyun whispered, looking at the place where Kyungsoo was standing.

Right next to the open casket, staring inside of it, with both hands clutched around the edges of it. He couldn’t stand the sweet smell of the decomposing body, covered in all those fragrant oils and incense lighted on the table close to it. Fresh basil and holy water; the hole was already dug, filling with water. Why weren’t they placing the casket in there and cover it with the ground so that he would never have to see it?

Kyungsoo turned his head and looked at him, through him, like that night. It was the same gaze and Baekhyun shivered, glancing at his feet and then at his mother.

“I will go talk to him. He could move in the spare bedroom. At least until he goes to college.”

But the gravediggers were already next to the casket, closing it and using ropes putting down at the bottom of the muddy hole. Kyungsoo was still standing on the edge, watching the ground being shoveled over the top of it; he grabbed a handful, stared at it, slipping between his fingers and then threw it on top.

Then he turned around and walked on the small path, always looking down, holding a black umbrella with one hand.

“You could come with me,” his mother said, looking at Baekhyun. “Talk to him together.”

“About what?”

“Don’t be so stubborn. He has no one now. We are supposed to be by his side, that’s what God would want out of us.”

“So you are saying that God also intended for his father to be a stupid drunk, didn’t he?”

“Watch your mouth. What happened is unfortunate.”

“But God’s will, didn’t it?”

“We can’t know that, Baekhyun. Let’s go talk to Kyungsoo. Please.”

Baekhyun sighed but followed her across the grass to where Kyungsoo had stopped underneath a tree. He didn’t want to talk to him. Not with his mother almost dragging him by the elbow.

“Come on, don’t act like a child,” she whispered.

They were there and Kyungsoo hadn’t noticed them yet. He wished he had been invisible, watch, do nothing. Watch, not push. Just stand there and watch.

“Honey, I am so sorry for your loss. But we are here for you,” his mother said, wrapping both arms around Kyungsoo’s body.

He looked thinner than usual; smaller, shrinking down underneath his own weight, under those black clothes; his eye bags were there, purple and inflated, like two deflated balls. Not yet all filled with air. But his lips were deep red, maybe he was biting them, over and over again.

“Thank you…”

“I have a proposal, and I hope you would accept it,” she said, taking a step away from him, but still keeping a hand near his body; Baekhyun knew, that’s how she’d always been, trying to convince him of anything.

Being caring, holding him; keeping touch on his body, reminding him who was in charge. Not him, but her. With just that touch. She had the upper hand and others couldn’t say no. How could they? She was the wet dream of every teenager watching porn. He knew that because all of his friends had told him at some point; how they’d shag her. That was disgusting, but sometimes he had wondered what Kyungsoo had been thinking. What was he thinking then, standing in the damp graveyard? He could imagine the water trickling in the casket, meshing with the flesh and juices, seeping in the ground and then…maybe in the tap water.

“We have a spare bedroom in our house and I was thinking you could move in, stay with us for a while, until you start college, move into a dorm. What do you say?” she asked, showing him a beaming smile of professionally whitened teeth and a smudge of pink lipstick on one of them.

“I don’t want to bother.”

“Of course you don’t. You are like a son to us.”

“I…”

“Honey, you don’t have to feel bad. Every good Christian would do this. There is no burden for us.”

Baekhyun wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. She would bring a different man in the house once a month, whenever she would have thought that he was asleep, wouldn’t notice. But he had always noticed. Heard the muffled sounds. They hadn’t disgusted him, but hadn’t liked them either. It was strange. He knew people had needs, people her age, divorced, lonely, needing another body. Sometimes, lying in bed, alone, he had been needing a body too. Someone, to breathe next to him. Just that.

“Alright, thank you…” Kyungsoo said.

His mother turned around to look at Baekhyun. Kyungsoo was looking at him too. “I will leave the two of you alone…”

He coughed, watching her disappear between the bushes and trees of the cemetery, behind one tall gravestone. Next, to them, there was another one, surrounded by a blue fence. He hadn’t noticed it before. There weren’t flowers on it, just weeds. It said 1957 on the stone. Maybe all the relatives were dead, nobody to come and put garlands on and bring food and say prayers. Better that way.

“You know how she is…” Baekhyun shrugged, pushing a stone with his foot right in a puddle. It sank to the bottom.

“Fuck off.”

“Kyungsoo,” he said, grabbing his wrist.

Then, he let it go. He didn’t know why he did that. There were people watching.

“Stay out of my life.”

“It’s not my fault that my mother is pushing you exactly in the middle of it. And you accepted. Do you like her or something? Having a boner right now?”

“Fuck off!” Kyungsoo said and shoved him with both hands.

Baekhyun closed his eyes, feeling vertigo embrace him like a shadow; it was gone in a second, but there it was, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He had bitten his tongue.

“I saved you.”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

“I did what I had to do to save you. Now you are not the one scarred for life.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Kyungsoo said. “Nobody did.”

“He was going to kill you,” Baekhyun whispered, stepping closer to him.

“You…choosing for me, having me lie to the police to save your ass. Now I am a liar, an offender and you are a murderer. You’ll rot in hell.”

“Oh, great. Just great, starting with the religious bullshit, right? Since when do you care about what God wants? I bet God didn’t want you to get a beating every time your fucking father was getting smashed,” Baekhyun said, pacing around. “You could be a little thankful. Not sure how to say it, but at the moment, you don’t really have the time to think about every little shit when you fucking best friend is getting his head smashed by his own father.”

“Fuck off. Keep feeling proud of what you did…”

“If you think that I feel proud about-about doing that than you are a twisted fuck,” Baekhyun said and left.

At night, since then, he had been thinking about how fast things had just crumbled down between them. First, it had been the shock; the silence, the lack of words and movement, caught in that moment for God knows when. He hadn’t been able to stand up or check on Kyungsoo but at some point, he had moved. Called the police. The ambulance. Maybe. Or maybe he had yelled for the neighbors. Kyungsoo had been unconscious and then…he had lied. It had just come to him, hadn’t even thought for one second about telling the truth. There were flashlights and the black bag shining in that light, sitting on the tray. People were asking questions, checking his vitals. Some were yelling, the neighbors had gathered around. He hadn’t seen Kyungsoo anymore that night.

And afterward, when Kyungsoo had woken up, he had said the same thing. Without asking him to. But Kyungsoo had already stopped looking at him, talking to him.

He was wondering why. It was not like his father had won the prize for the best father ever or anything. He had been a shitty, alcoholic asshole.

But there he was, Kyungsoo being mad at him and accusing.

Other times, deep in the night, Baekhyun would imagine running away, letting Kyungsoo be killed or whatever. That thought was making him feel better; more at peace, feeding him with sweet revenge, that wasn’t lasting for long. Then he would be guilty. Extremely so. But he could picture his opened eyes, bloodied face and parted lips and then he wouldn’t be able to say anything, the ungrateful fucker, for trying to save him. Because being dead meant that his father would be alive.

But Kyungsoo was alive and underneath his roof. A room away from his, sleeping on clean bedsheets. Maybe having nightmares. One crime…two crimes, what biggie?! He could just press a pillow on his face, hold it until he would stop moving. Punish him for being an ungrateful asshole. He was the one to rot afterward, not him.

Baekhyun breathed out and turned on his bed. Those thoughts were scaring him after they were gone. Where were they coming from?

They must have been bottled up in there for a very long time, and they were just coming the surface.

He woke up with a headache. It was almost summer, almost no high-school. No more exams. College. Dorm rooms and cute girls and new friends. A new beginning. No more Kyungsoo.

Baekhyun opened the door, not making a sound. The hallway was empty. Was he still asleep? He could use some talking, with someone. But people don’t keep those kinds of secrets; not bloody ones. They would chatter them out to the police, feeling proud of themselves. Pointing at the murderer.

He knew how his mother would react, with her pink nails and pink mouth and ironed shirt and artificial blonde hair; she would scream and maybe faint and then start sobbing on the floor, mumbling that her poor, little, sweet son had done something that terrible. Maybe she would keep it a secret too. But it would consume her.

She would break. She was a breaker. Even with his father. She had begged, had heard her through the wall separating the bedrooms. Kyungsoo’s bedroom had used to be theirs. There were threats and then cries and more threats and afterward screams and slaps and at times she would see her with disheveled blonde hair and mascara trailing down her face. Other times it would have been quiet, peace. They would laugh, crack jokes and eat breakfast together. He had hated those times. Fake assholes.

Baekhyun couldn’t possibly just break and say anything to the wrong person. Kyungsoo couldn’t either. He knew that. They were both together in that, caught in that lie.

The other door opened, the one for Kyungsoo’s room; for how long had he been standing in the doorframe?

“Morning…” Baekhyun whispered.

“Morning…”

“You hungry?”

“A little…”

They walked to the kitchen together, Baekhyun following him from behind. He was small, but robust, not fragile. He still had some scars from that night, on the side of his face and neck. Some missing patches of hair. A yellow-greenish shadow around his left eye. He could push him down the stair. No one would see. Another accident. He tripped. Just tripped.

“You two woke up,” his mother beamed. “So, Baekhyun is doing some private tutoring for his exams. Do you have a private tutor, Kyungsoo?”

Kyungsoo shook his head, sitting down at the table.

“Well, we could find one for you. Get perfect scores and go into your dream university,” she smiled, placing some plates in front of them.

That morning, her hair was in a ponytail; her nails were black, matching the clothes. It was almost comical.

“I don’t want to go to university.”

“Why?”

Baekhyun wanted to laugh, but he knew that would only make matters worse. So he kept quiet, eating his food.

“Because I don’t have the money for it and I don’t like studying. I just want to get a job at the end of it.”

“A boy as smart as you should strive for a better future.”

“Mom. Could you drop it? For now?” Baekhyun said.

“For now…” she said, shaking her head.

At school, people were giving them sad glances; saying useless words to Kyungsoo, touching his shoulder, hugging him, fake crying, especially the girls. They had their special group of special treatment for a while until everyone would jump to the next sad thing or cool or exciting shit. But they were the stars.

Even teachers, with their sad eyes and soft voices and warm and sweaty hands, placed on their shoulder, leaving wet marks and the ghost of that strange warmth. Decaying bodies. Some smelled sweet, the older ones, like the inside of a casket. He had never been that close to them before.

“That must have been terrible…for both of you…”

“Yeah, it was…” Baekhyun whispered in one of the classes.

For some reason, by the end of it, he felt like crying. Real crying, not faking it for some compassion and attention. It was shit. They didn’t get it. He had fucking pushed it and there was no one he could talk about it. Kyungsoo was a fucking stone.

He hoped that he would warm up after all. There was also the possibility of pushing him down the stairs. Removing him meant removing the only witness, the guilt and the fear. But he was Kyungsoo.

At dinner, Kyungsoo didn’t come downstairs, so he took the plates of food to his room. He knocked, waited and then opened the door.

“Can I eat here too?” he asked.

Kyungsoo just shrugged. He hadn’t cried about the death, hadn’t said anything about it. How he was feeling. Nothing.

“I’m sorry…” Baekhyun whispered.

“About…?”

“Everything? I didn’t do it to…I just…I can’t even remember anything from that night. I’m sorry, Kyungsoo…I…I think every night about it. There are nightmares, with his face at the end of the stairs and he laughs and laughs. And I can’t talk about it with no one. Don’t you have bad dreams?”

“Sometimes…”

“Talk to me…I miss you. I really miss you.”

“Why were you staring at me that night?” Kyungsoo asked, looking at him.

“I wasn’t…”

“Yes, you were. Why?”

“I…” Baekhyun whispered, placing the plate down. “I…can’t tell you.”

“Is it because you like me?”

“Kyungsoo.”

“Just say it for once…”

“Yeah, I do. Like…I think I do, how should I know for fuck’s sake,” Baekhyun said, sitting with his back on the floor, both of his arms crossed over his chest.

He closed his eyes, waiting; waiting for something.

“I have nightmares too…” Kyungsoo whispered, hugging his knees. “Did he scream?”

“I…don’t think so…”

“I wish he had screamed.”

Baekhyun’s chest shuddered, hearing the sound of a body rolling down on carpet-covered stairs, rolling and rolling until it hit something hard. Smash. It cracked, like an egg.

“It doesn’t seem real.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Shut up. Stop saying sorry.”

“I don’t fucking know what else to say.”

“Nothing?” Kyungsoo shrugged. “He was an asshole…but in 4 months I would have been out of there. Fuck him. And you.”

“He could have killed you in those 4 months. He almost killed you back there.”

“I just passed out.”

“Oh, and that’s such paternal love, you know. Beating the crap out of your son and only making him pass out. Not even breaking something or putting him into a coma. What an asshole,” he said, almost bursting into laughter.

There were those moments when he had been feeling like laughing, out of thin air, without a palpable reason. Just because he could.

“Now we have to keep this secret.”

“Basically it was self-defense and an accident. I would do community service or something. Ruin my scholarship and college admission. Have my mother go nuts over how much she’s spent on my ass. But you know…not a deal-breaker.”

“Do you only think about yourself?”

“The opposite.”

“Fucker.”

“I saved you.”

“You fucked me big time.”

“I wish.”

“Fuck off,” Kyungsoo said and stood up. “Get out of my room. Now.”

“I did it for you, whether you want to admit it or not,” Baekhyun said and ran out of the room, shutting the door behind.

The laughter was gone. He dreaded nightfall, time for bed, for sleeping. But was it sleep even though he could only think about the soft body rolling down the stairs, the bundle of flesh and clothes thrown at the end of them? And Kyungsoo, bloodied up, dead…

He shook his head.

“How was dinner?” his mother asked.

“Not hungry.”

“Honey…talk to me…” she said, walking towards him. “Would you like…maybe, to go see a therapist?”

“No…” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not crazy.”

“Honey…is to help you get through this…sort out your thoughts. Nobody says you are…crazy.”

“I’m fine.”

“Baekhyun…”

“I am fine. Just fine.”

Maybe he didn’t feel fine inside, but after all, he wasn’t sure what fine meant. It could mean anything, so he said that, over and over, in his head, until it had lost any sense.

In the morning, before school, he didn’t want to wake up or do anything; just push through the last weeks, pass those damn exams and then just leave. Stay away from everything and everyone. Whatever it might remind him of that night.

Kyungsoo was already in the kitchen, eating. He wasn’t hungry.

“Morning…”

“Hey…” Kyungsoo said, not looking at him.

“Where’s mom?”

“She left earlier for work.”

“Oh…so nice of her,” he whispered, weighting an apple in his hand. “Uhm, yeah. I’m going.”

Kyungsoo shrugged, not averting his gaze from his phone.

The tricky part was that, at school, he would usually end up staying with Kyungsoo. They were in the same classes, same year and what he had liked to call, best friends. Good friends. Childhood friends.

But he could do without, he thought, walking past the gates, into the yard and then inside the old building; it smelled a little like mold that day. Because of the raining, he assumed, the walls were still damp, and that dampness was there in the air. He liked that smell.

Everything was quite humid, like in a greenhouse, only that instead of vegetable, there were people; yet to be fully grown ones, from smaller, scrawny, yelling and annoying little beings in middle school and primary, to pubescent and almost adult species.

He liked to think of them like that. Species.

“So you just walk like this without even looking at me?”

“Hey, Jongdae…sorry. I…”

“Calm down. You’ve been weird since…then,” Jongdae said, leaning on a wall. “Like, really weird. You good? Or did it mess with your hormones and shit and now you’ll turn into a little girl?”

“Was that supposed to be a joke?”

Jongdae grinned, slapping him over the butt.

He sighed, shaking his head. Usually, on most of his good days, he would have brushed off all those jokes and laugh just to keep the mood going. But he hadn’t been feeling like that or having a particularly good day in a while so they had only been bad jokes.

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Are you ever in a mood?”

“No…”

“I was thinking…if we go to the same college, we could be roommates. That would be cool. Like, we both applied to the same one, I’m pretty sure. And it’s not that bad either. I checked it. Lots of hot girls.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I always choose the best of the best.”

Baekhyun wondered why they were friends. What was tying them together?

“We could,” he shrugged.

But he didn’t want to. Not because he didn’t like Jongdae or that particular college, but he didn’t really want that many things as of late. He just wanted to stay in bed and stare at the ceiling, with the headphones in his ears. Blank everything around him.

“I was talking to that girl, Alisha and she has those big breasts, you know…like, big big and I could just think…”

Baekhyun closed his eyes, as Jongdae was talking and talking and talking, pieces of words and phrases still getting to him.

“Are you listening?” Jongdae said, staring at him.

The door to the classroom closed, the teacher coming inside, followed by Kyungsoo.

“What’s wrong with him too?”

Baekhyun shrugged again. “Who knows?”

“You live with him…”

“And…?”

“Fine, dude. Keep it all to yourself as I will keep all the hot chicks to me.”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. Whatever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think this chapter might be just a little bit lighter, at least towards the end; i'm not sure about the ending for this...i have 3 versions: one is quite a normal one and the second is rather grim...maybe a little more on my taste at this point, so i shall see how writing feels for the third chapter
> 
> hope you enjoy and thank you so much for reading

Baekhyun woke up expecting it to be morning. But the room was dark, shrinking around him, faster and faster, choking him with invisible hands, pressing right on his chest until all the air rushed out of his lungs. He jumped out of bed, panting.

Everything was still.

The room, the same, unmoving. Only the curtain was swaying from one side to the other until it stopped. Silence. His heart was beating, he wasn’t sure why.

Drip, drip, drip; coming from the bathroom, but then, he remembered, the bathroom was not next to his room. It wasn’t, it couldn’t be. He knew it wasn’t, but it kept on dripping, on and on, and at any moment, the door would smash against the wall, breaking it apart like two hands cracking open a ribcage in a crack of bones and flesh.

The blood needed to gush out of every orifice, crawl on the wall, on the floor, gather and pool at his feet. He bit his tongue. It fucking hurt.

But the door remained still. Baekhyun closed his eyes and opened them when vertigo came again, swiftly. It was silent, taking him in its arms, cradling him at its chest like a baby. He thought that maybe he could fall on the floor, hit his head on the bed frame. Stand there for an eternity.

Most nights had been better. Only nightmares, waking up in the mornings with headaches. Others were sleepless. Others…different.

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway, glancing from one side to another.

Drip, drip, drip.

Something swished on the soft carpet, he heard the sound of steps, hard boots on the ground. He could jump at any moment from the shadows of each corner. Push him away; fall. Smash his head.

He checked again. It was empty. He didn’t close the door, ran to the other bedroom, pushed the door open and closed it with a clink. Then, he waited there, not moving.

Staring into the darkness, as he couldn’t make out any shape. It was quiet. After a while, he could discern soft breathing, the sound of sheets on the skin, someone alive with him in the room. Everything was fading back into place. He wasn’t alone anymore, where the water was dripping in the wall, right next to his head, again and again, and where the knob could just twist and the door open and he would just push and push and push and-

“Baekhyun?”

He didn’t answer, making another step in the shifting of sheets and skin and bones on the bed. His knee touched the edge of it and he sat down, in the bed, covering himself with the blanket.

“Baekhyun…” the voice was barely a whisper, but the body was warm next to his.

His chest shuddered. Baekhyun hugged his knees, pressing them together, with his arms tight around them. Kyungsoo was there, right there, alive and real. He was warmth, and coldness and tight embraces, shouts and sugar cookies. Why he had suddenly thought of them he wasn’t sure.

They sat like that, his knees pressed against his chest, breathing in and out, in and out. It seemed like an eternity, the shadow whispering all over the wall, hiding at the edge of the closet; stepping out, hidden behind the bed. He could see them, from the corner of his eye. From the other one, he could see Kyungsoo, breathing in and out, just like himself.

“I’m sorry…for coming into your room like that…” he whispered.

Did the voice come from him? From his own body, mouth? It was floating around, an invisible one to shout his words.

“Nightmares…?” Kyungsoo whispered.

“I think…?”

He heard him sigh, or was it the wind, running across the branches hitting the windows? No, he couldn’t look that way, at their contorted shapes, arms, dried up, black. Dry…his throat was dry.

“Panic attack?”

“Huh…?”

“Are you having a panic attack?” Kyungsoo asked.

Baekhyun shrugged, pressing his head into the pillow. He didn’t expect it, when Kyungsoo placed an arm around his middle, dragging him a little closer. They weren’t pressed together, but close enough. It felt good, just having someone alive next to him. Between him and the branches, the shadows crawling on the floor, wanting to bite off his toes and spit them out in a pile before his eyes.

“Goodnight…”

He should have said thank you, he thought in the morning when Kyungsoo was not there. When did he wake up? Was it all a dream? It couldn’t have been. That was Kyungsoo’s room, his parents’ room. He shook his head, he couldn’t think about any of that.

The shouts coming from it, the shattered mirror, her crying on the floor, shaking like a twig. Other sounds, when they would fuck when things were seemingly better. Everything had seemed terrible.

“Morning.”

“I made pancakes,” his mother said, placing a plate in front of him.

“Where’s…”

“Kyungsoo? Off to school. How did you sleep?”

“Alright,” he said, taking a bite from the pancake.

It tasted good. She was a good cook, in fact. Surprisingly so, as you wouldn’t have said just from looking at her long, painted nails. That day, the black polished was replaced by a deep blue one.

“Honey…are you busy later today? I know you have no private tutoring and I was thinking we could go for a walk or something.”

“Alright,” Baekhyun shrugged.

“Okay…well, I’ll see you when I get home then.”

“Yeah…”

He didn’t sit next to Kyungsoo at school. Next to Jongdae, loud and cheery, from first sight. He wondered what was making him feel like that. Happy?

“You could make this a look,” the other said.

“What…look?”

“You know...dark circles, hair, and clothes. A modern vampire. Chicks are totally into it. They’d definitely suck you well…you know, vampire style,” Jongdae laughed.

“Do you only think about chicks and fucking?!” Baekhyun hissed. “Like…that’s the only thing that your single neuron can think off? Boobies and dicks?”

“What’s up with you, dude?” Jongdae burst into laughter.

“Nothing…I’m just…tired.”

“I know what you need to snap out of it: booze and some good fucking.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes. He couldn’t possibly move in with Jongdae. He couldn’t. Yes, he could drop, drop, drop some pills, sleeping pills in his beer when he’d be smashed…all an accident. He was high, he was a druggie; he was in fact depressed. It could work.

Baekhyun shook his head, glanced at him. Dead. Eyes closed, grin no longer there. The skin turning bluish. Silence.

No, why was he thinking about any of that? He wanted to scream, run away from there, from all of them; all those happy, stupid fools, going on with their lives, not having killed someone. But he had done it, done it, and he hated all of them because they didn’t have to live with it.

“Baekhyun…can I speak to you for a moment?” the teacher stopped in front of his desk.

“Yes, sure.”

The class was over but he didn’t know when it had passed.

“I know the accident has…affected you. I can tell that. If there is anything you want to talk about, share with someone…I am here to listen,” the teacher said.

She was a woman, in her forties maybe, probably married, with 2 children and a husband with a big, hairy belly. Those were just his assumptions, but they seemed pretty spot on.

Her children were probably annoying little brats, she couldn’t be that maternal figure she had always wished to be for them. So she was looking for new children, teenagers, whatever, to take into her warm, fat covered arms and squeeze them against her breasts. Wounded creatures to take under her wing. She was that type.

“I am good,” he smiled. “I am getting better…uhm, my mom is taking me to a therapist, so there is nothing to be worried about.”

“If you need anything…any time, I am here…” she smiled.

Baekhyun smiled again and left. He hated it, the pity out of their own need to play the savior.

There it was, Kyungsoo’s back. Kyungsoo…

“Hey!” he said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Dude, haven’t seen you around.”

“Haven’t seen you either,” Baekhyun said, sitting down on the barstool.

In fact, he hadn’t been there in a while. He couldn’t just follow Kyungsoo around, do anything as he had been feeling ashamed of giving in the night before. And Kyungsoo hadn’t yelled or kicked him out which was even worse.

So he was there, at a bar, one that he had gone to before. His bar, his safe place.

“Yeah, missed your cute face,” the guy smiled.

“I…give me a beer, please. Can I smoke inside?”

“Only in the back or outside. But I’ll come with you if you wait for a little.”

“Okay…” he whispered, leaning on the counter.

The place was dark, almost grim, but it smelled of liquorish and lemon zest, alcohol and tobacco. Fresh tobacco, ready to be rolled and smoked. Everything, except for the counter and table was covered in brown leather, matching the wood and the wall with old, maybe 1950’s posters all over them; framed, sometimes gleaming in the yellow light.

He fancied the bartender. Much older than him, maybe in his 30’s; his eyebrows were bushy, almost covering his black eyes and his skin was caramel-like; it worked with the place for some reason. They seemed to be one and the same. Yes, he could say that he had daddy issues; yes, he might have been filling that void by coming there. He hadn’t really been thinking about it as of late.

“How’s school?”

“Almost over.”

“You good?”

“Not really…” Baekhyun said, placing his forehead on the counter.

“I’m a pretty damn good listener.”

“I bet you don’t want to hear this.”

“Then wait for Sehun to take my place and we can go for a smoke. I have nothing better than to listen to your stories.”

Baekhyun smiled a little, looking at him. He could try if he wanted enough. It wouldn’t be that hard, being with him, at least just for the summer. But then, who could know how he would react after he’d say everything?

Sehun came fast enough, sunglasses on, looking like shit. But Sehun usually looked like shit, at least when he was in the bar. The light wasn’t doing him any favors.

“Let’s go.”

Baekhyun followed him through the back door, into a smaller room, with a leather couch and an opened window; there was also a round table with an ashtray onto it and a dead plant in a corner. It had always been there, dead, but still, not disappearing. There for eternity.

“So…what’s up with you?”

“I…” Baekhyun said and burst into laughter.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing…but I just can’t say it. Promise me you aren’t going to tell anyone what I’m about to say. Promise.”

“I promise, Baek…what is it?”

Baekhyun gulped down, shifting closer to him.

“I killed someone…”

The other didn’t say anything, even a fake surprised sound or expression; he was making the second cigarette and hadn’t even stopped when he had said the words.

“I…killed Kyungsoo’s father and lied to the police. It was self-defense, he was about to kill Kyungsoo and I had to do something so I just pushed him down the stairs. Kyungsoo lied for me. I didn’t ask him to…but now he hates my guts.”

“Here…” he said, giving him the cigarette.

“Max…say something.”

“You stopped your friend from being killed by an alcoholic.”

“I know…but that’s not what…”

“What? No one will know and even if they do…you did nothing wrong. Self-defense. Either him or you. It’s a choice.”

“You’re so…cold.”

“I suppose you wanted me to punish you or call the police? The thing is done, you are alive and your friend is an idiot,” Max said.

“I wish I could be like you…” Baekhyun said.

“A bartender?”

“No…collected and cold and level headed.”

“I’m not always like this.”

“Then more than me.”

“Baek…” Max said, sighing. “You are a good kid.”

“What kid kills-“

“We won’t talk about that anymore, okay? We’ll do something less grim. Go outside, for example.”

“Nooo…”

“Yes, come on. Come on,” Max laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him up. “You need to see the sunlight.”

“What if I’m a vampire and I cannot see the sunlight?”

“Then you are one heck of a cute vampire. Do you actually have fangs?” Max asked, stopping to look at him with a smile forming on his face.

“You always say that I’m cute…why?”

“Because you are…” he laughed.

“Do you have nightmares?” Baekhyun asked. “Sorry, that was so random and-“

“Sometimes. Do you?”

“I…”

“Look. It’s none of my business, but why don’t you go see a therapist and talk about everything?”

“Because…”

“Baek…”

“I’m going to be alright.”

“Baek…we both know you won’t go see one. I’ve known you for 2 years…which is not a long time but…”

“I won’t be able to come here when I leave for college, you know? Maybe once or twice during the school year and then, only during summer vacations.”

“You’ll get new friends.”

“I like having you as a friend,” Baekhyun smiled.

“Friends your age.”

“Max.”

“Hey, kid, I’m 33 this summer. I should be married by my mother’s standards, have an apartment and at least a kid. I have none. Like…I’m the worst kind of influence for you. You are a bright one, checked your grades and shit. Go to Harvard or Yale or something.”

“What’s wrong with you too?” Baekhyun yelled.

“Let’s go outside and forget about all of this, okay? Come on.”

They didn’t do much, bought a lot of crap to eat and sat on a big patch of grass, in a park, next to many other people sitting on colored blankets and listening to pop music. It was sunny. They were looking at the sky through the foliage of the trees, throwing a gummy bear in his mind from time to time. Looking at him from time to time. Wanting to kiss him from time to time. Getting scared from time to time.

He was 33. He was 18. He was 33, Baekhyun repeated in his head. 33. 33. 33.

“What car would you buy if you had the money?” Max asked.

“An old Mustang. You know, blue with those sharp edges, convertible maybe. Do some road trips with it.”

“Are you an old soul?”

“You are old.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up,” Baekhyun laughed, throwing a gummy bear at him.

“What college are you going to?”

Baekhyun shrugged. “Wherever my mom wants me to.”

“So no preference?”

“I just need to get perfect grades. She’ll-“

“Have a mental breakdown if you don’t? Yeah, met her once,” Max said and grabbed a handful of chips.

“When? You didn’t tell me about it.”

“Because it was before meeting you and it would have been kind of weird to tell you just like that your mom came by the bar, got drunk and then hit on me.”

“Oh…did you…” Baekhyun whispered.

“Not to be an asshole, but I’m not into freshly divorced, drunk and rebound seeking ladies, you know? Not into that masochistic bullshit anymore.”

“Then what are you into?” Baekhyun asked, looking at him.

Max shrugged.

“Now, no one…doing my own thing for the moment.”

“Do you mean hand jobs?”

“Shut up. You?”

“No one…” Baekhyun whispered.

“Liar. But I won’t nag you. I’m not a nagger nor curious.”

Baekhyun sighed, closing his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't envisioned this ending, but now that i have written it, i quite enjoy it; i think it is rather fitting for this entire story
> 
> hope you'll enjoy:)

He knew he’d fucked it up; missed all her calls and messages, some willingly, others he hadn’t even heard. The first few, but the rest he had just ignored, tucked his phone in his backpack and left it in there until he got home.

She was to be mad; maybe not really show, slightly frustrated, angered, but not make a fuss about it. His mother had gotten used to that by then. It would have been strange not to.

He opened the door.

“Sorry about today. It totally slipped my mind…” he said, closing the door.

She wasn’t in the kitchen or living room. So he knocked on her bedroom door, once, twice, then opened it. Reading. He found her reading, with her knees tucked under a shawl, orange with red flowers. It had been his grandmothers, had seen it on her during her last few days.

“Hey…mom, sorry for today.”

“It’s okay…” she smiled, patting the spot next to her. “I understand.”

Baekhyun sighed and sat down, leaning on the headboard. Her room smelled nice, like perfume; it had sunk into the sheets and furniture, the same one used over and over in the years that had passed. An animal of habit, he thought.

“We could hang out together now,” she said.

Baekhyun bit his lip and closed his eyes; the air in the room was a little too warm, a little too sweet and sticky; smelling of his mother and maybe little children for some reason, with the snot around their nose and dirtied faces of liquid food. He had wondered for a moment whether she had ever wanted another child, to throw all her unrequited, unused love at it; all the love gathered for a husband that was bottled up, somewhere, in her small being. Maybe it was rotting away.

“Are you happy?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because…” he whispered, playing with the hem of his shirt. “We never talk about it, but dad was an asshole. And I haven’t seen you dating anyone…like ever. Which is totally fine…but I was only wondering. Are you happy?” he asked, looking at her.

Her hair was down, no fancy makeup or expensive clothes to brag about to her blonde copy-cats friends; there were dark circles and sunspots, not exactly the good shag Jongdae had always pictured. God, Jongdae, he thought, seeing his huge grin on his face.

“I have you and I want to see you happy and accomplished. That makes me happy.”

“But when I’ll leave for college…”

“I’ll be all alone in this big house, yes,” she smiled, chewing her thumb. “I…I’ve been thinking about that too. Maybe selling it and buying a small apartment. For someone like me.”

“Mom…” Baekhyun whispered.

“This house has a lot of memories. Good ones, but mostly bad ones. I mean, I can only remember the bad ones, which is stupid enough but…maybe I need a fresh start, you know? Somewhere where there are no memories of ours.”

“Won’t you miss it?”

“I don’t think so…” she shrugged. “Maybe I will. Haven’t thought about it,” the woman said, dragging a finger along with the bedside table, making a stripe through the dust.

“What if I don’t get into a good college?” he asked, shifting closer to her, to place his head on her shoulder.

She sighed, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll still be my child…”

“But you’ll be disappointed.”

“I know what you can do.”

Baekhyun thought that as of late he was pretty damn good at killing people or at least finding ways of doing so. He shivered. Those thoughts were making him feel disgusting, tainted. But they were there. He couldn’t tell her. No, he couldn’t. She needed her own little apartment, smelling of perfume and candles and sushi and maybe having those stupid friends over to drink wine and not think about assholes or her son, being a criminal.

She couldn’t go crazy. He wouldn’t let her.

“We could watch a movie,” he said.

“You can choose it. I’m bad at it,” she laughed.

He thought that he loved her. Just like that, he loved her and maybe he felt like crying for some reason, looking at her smile and laugh a little, tired, getting older, alone and soon even more, without him. That could be very well one of the last things he would remember of her. Seeing her laugh.

“Mom…”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

He wasn’t sure how or why he ended at the nightclub, but there he was, among the crowd, in the dim lights and loud music and smell of sweat and cheap perfume.

Sweat was dripping off his neck, down into his shirt, all over his back, down, down, down, caught in the elastic of his jeans. Tight, a little too tight on his body.

How the hell did he get in there? He couldn’t remember.

“Here, dude,” Jongdae said, grinning, handing him a small glass of something pink in color. “And this, let’s have some FUUUN!”

Baekhyun tried to smile, taking the glass and the round pill from him. He placed it on the tip of his tongue, grinning, and swallowed it with that pink liquid. It stung, but he wanted more.

“Come on,” he said, pulling him towards the center of the room where most people were; dancing, bodies smashing into each other, the bright colored lights on their face, arms in the air and the smell of alcohol off their sweat.

The floor was sticky. He felt sticky. But he needed to dance, felt the urge stronger and stronger as the time kept passing, trickling around him, meshed in the bright lights warming up his face. He was happy.

Damn, how much he felt like dancing, just jumping around and feeling the music, the vibration of the speakers right through his bone marrow, like an electric jolt to his brain.

Someone placed a hand on him, dragging him closer; the rhythm was intoxicating, maybe he was a little too warm, a little too sticky. His heart was beating a little too fast, feeling it thump, thump…drip, drip, drip in his chest.

Wet lips trailing along his neck, down and the hand slipping underneath his shirt, pinching the skin. He giggled. Baekhyun opened his eyes. The lights were so strong, so mesmerizing, he kept on following them, they were dancing too, he thought and laughed.

He felt the hand sliding in his pants, grabbing him. He moaned. But when he opened his eyes, again, in the lights, right between them, in a corner, there he was, staring at him with his milky eyes; a bundle of clothes, rolling and rolling down the stairs as blood was gushing out.

His heart was beating too fast. He couldn’t breathe. Baekhyun felt like suffocating. He kept looking around, the stranger, stuck to him, too warm, too sticky. And it kept on rolling and the blood gushing and he ran away, pushing people aside. Making way. He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe?

Air. Finally. The air was cold on his skin, the wind too strong and maybe he still felt like dancing. But he fell down on the hard concrete, leaning on the wall, where there was no one around. His heart was beginning to calm down. He closed his eyes.

His mouth was dry too, sticky. Some water, maybe.

Baekhyun opened his eyes, sighing. He could call someone, Kyungsoo. No, Kyungsoo would judge him, he couldn’t stand having Kyungsoo see him like that. It would be too much for him.

No, he needed someone who wouldn’t give a damn.

He tried to stand up, but couldn’t. His legs were glued to the ground. Then, he thought that maybe he didn’t have that many friends, that many options. He felt alone, so alone and scared, right there in the street. With his heart, feeling so cold and small, and beating slower and slower; his head spinning, turning around the thoughts in his mind.

Baekhyun wanted to cry. He couldn’t. Eyes, mouth, everything was dry.

“What did you do?”

Where did the voice come from? How much time had passed, he wasn’t sure.

“What the fuck, Baekhyun. You look like shit. Utter shit.”

Kyungsoo’s voice, he could recognize it wherever. It was him, he came. Baekhyun smiled.

“I went to have some fun…” he smiled.

“Here, drink some water,” Kyungsoo said, handing him a bottle. “You sounded even worse on the phone. Don’t tell me. That moron Jongdae dragged you here.”

“I took a tiny tiny pill.”

“Of course,” Kyungsoo sighed. “Come on, let’s go home. You need some sleep.”

“Kyungsoo…”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t think you would come, you know?”

“Now shut up and walk. I want to get some sleep tonight.”

“You are mad…”

“You could have gotten hurt.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You got lucky.”

He woke up in his bed, all alone. Maybe he hoped Kyungsoo would be there in the morning, hugging him. It was Saturday. He needed to see him, talk to him.

“Morning…” he whispered.

“You look better.”

“Do I?”

“Much better. Here, drink some water. I squeezed some lemon in it. And I’m making some bacon with eggs,” Kyungsoo said, turning towards the stove.

“Sorry for last night.”

“That’s fine.”

“Kyungsoo…” Baekhyun whispered, staring into the glass. “I know you said I shouldn’t keep saying it, but I am sorry for everything.”

“I know…” the other sighed, glancing at him. “I’m sorry too…”

“What’s happened to you?” Baekhyun asked, taking a sip from the water; he squeezed his lips, trying to swallow.

“Do you want the truth or…”

“Truth…?”

“Well, I’ve realized I have no one else but you to hang out with. And I’ve been kind of lonely these weeks. In the beginning, it was fine but then…”

“So…it’s for your own sake more than anything?”

Kyungsoo sighed again. It started smelling like bacon, the sound of the oil sizzling in a pan, the spatula scraping the bottom of it. He liked it, it was comforting for some reason. The window was opened, he looked through it, at the foliage of the trees. Some kids were laughing and yelling outside, in the playground, sitting on rusty swings or in sandpits, making castles.

“I suppose. I missed hanging out with someone. You know…over the years I have isolated myself from everyone, except you…and now, at least here, it’s shitty making new friends. Pointless too.”

“So…”

“So…are we good now?”

“Well, I wasn’t upset at you, so…are you good now?” Baekhyun asked.

“I suppose.”

“You know…we’ll finish school soon and then I’ll leave for university. You won’t so…we won’t have to pretend that we are good friends for much longer,” Baekhyun said.

“I am not pretending,” Kyungsoo said.

“Well, you are only hanging out with me now because you feel lonely. That’s it.”

“Baek…”

“I feel hurt, you know?”

“You like me.”

“I used to. It’s in the past.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m not even sure I like guys, so…it doesn’t matter. And even if I did, I wouldn’t want you to be my first in anything.”

“Baek, why are you like this?”

“Because I can and I want to and…”

“Stop it. Just stop it.”

“Why?” Baekhyun asked.

“Who do you want to hurt more: you or I?”

“I don’t want to hurt anybody…”

“Then…why?”

“Because…you made me say that I like you but you didn’t say anything back. It was just a power move, to know you have a lot of shit against me?”

“I don’t want to have shit against you.”

“Then?”

“Look…everything happened too fast for me to understand it all. I still can’t. Give me time…”

“For what? I’m leaving and you are staying behind.”

“Baek…” Kyungsoo whispered, holding his own hand. “I shouldn’t have blamed you. Just give me more time…”

“Okay…” he shook his head. “Okay.”

Baekhyun woke up covered in cold sweat. It was all dark, silent. But his heart was thumping and he could sense at every second that someone would jump from behind a corner. He stood up, getting dizzy; ran to the door, left it open, opened another, closed it.

He felt like puking.

“Baek…Baek, are you alright?”

Baekhyun shook his head, leaning on the wall, feeling the cold sweat replaced by a wave of warmth, stronger and stronger. He wasn’t feeling alright.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head again.

Kyungsoo sighed, standing up from the bed and lingered at the edge of it for a while, both of them keeping the silence; shifting from one leg to another. The warmth was going away, at last, looking at the other brush his toe through the carpet, tracing lines and circles. He closed his eyes again, but it was worse, so he left them open. The moon was shining through the glass, throwing white lights all over the floor and bed. Maybe if he were standing it that light, it would be colder. He shook his head.

Baekhyun took the first step towards him, then another and another one until he was right in front of him.

“Can I sleep here tonight? I…”

“Okay…”

Kyungsoo made some space for him, covering him with the blanket. They were staring at the ceiling as Kyungsoo’s fingers found his own and intertwined; he squeezed them a little and remained like that.

“Goodnight…”

“I…might tell mom about it. Max already knows. I…I think I might go to the police station and confess it all. Maybe I could sleep then,” Baekhyun whispered.

“No…Baek, no.”

“What if I won’t be able to sleep well…like, never…?”

“I am here…”

“Not forever.”

“Sleep now,” Kyungsoo whispered, squeezing his fingers again.

When he woke up, in the morning, Kyungsoo was next to him, still asleep; his chest rising and falling, rising and falling, his eyelashes fluttering from time to time. The same plump, pink bottom lip touching the skin of his chin. Baekhyun leaned on his elbow, looking down at his face.

He could kiss him, push a pillow down his face…be all his, to all of his desires. But he just closed his eyes and sat down against the pillows, covering his own face with the blanket. Maybe he could live like that, wake up that way every morning.

He had slept fine next to him; at some point, he had woken up, feeling the other’s arms around his body, face pressed against his neck. It was good, safe even, in that warmth of blankets and their own bodies.

“You awake?”

“Yeah…”

“I had a stupid dream last night.”

“Me too.”

“Baek…what if I go to college with you? Not the same and having different dorms and crap. But you know, the same city…and having each other? Would you hate it…?” Kyungsoo asked, yawning.

“No…I don’t think so. You know my mom would be so happy to hear about it.”

“I know…I was thinking about cooking school.”

“To become a chef?” Baekhyun laughed, turning around to look at him.

“I know now that you did it to protect me…and I am thankful, Baek…” he said, gliding the tips of his fingers along his face.

They stopped when they reached his chin, right under his lips and Baekhyun shuddered.

“I might need some therapy…I…have very disturbing thoughts sometimes. They scare me. Are you sure you don’t want to never see me again and forget about everything?”

“I’m doing this out of fear too…” Kyungsoo smiled.

“How…?”

“Fear to be alone…”

“I should get some therapy then, shouldn’t I? To be sure that I wouldn’t kill you in your sleep,” Baekhyun laughed and without thinking about it, kissed him on the lips.

One quick kiss and then he stood up, running for the bathroom, laughing. He felt happy. Everything was going to be alright. He was alright, he had Kyungsoo after all. Kyungsoo had chosen him.

Kyungsoo sighed in the other room, lifting his head off the pillow. His fingers slipped underneath it, to feel again the coldness of the handle. He pulled it out and glanced at the penknife, thinking that it was better that way. Yes, he could sleep better having it there, next to him. He could never know.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are very appreciated
> 
> quick edit: i'm not sure whether i will add more chapters to this or not, but i shall see...


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